In a hidden sentry tower on the Great Wall, Leon sat lost in thought. His eyes scanned the vast wilderness, yet they couldn't reach the doubts gnawing at his mind.
"First of all… who is Alliser Thorne?" he murmured, trying to search for an answer in the memories of his original life.
But memory, like an ancient tome coated in dust, had to be carefully read page by page.
He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began sifting through the fragments of recollection.
After a long while…
Yet Leon's original self had never been gifted with an exceptional memory. Many fragments were scattered and hazy, and to someone accustomed to the flood of information from the modern world, these memories felt tedious and difficult to piece together.
Leon took a deep breath, trying to calm his inner turmoil. He knew that to answer the question, "Who is Alliser Thorne?" he had to dig deep into his memories, but he came up empty-handed. No matter how he strained, he could recall no clues about the name.
Some memories, however, were strikingly vivid. The story of his life, and especially his "exile" to the Night's Watch by his father, remained as sharp as if it had happened yesterday.
His father, Vico Victor, had been a vassal of House Tyrell and a guardian of the Riverlands, one of the Seven Kingdoms. Among many children, Leon Victor had been just one. With his elder brother still alive, Leon had no hope of inheriting the family castle or fiefdom.
Moreover, his predecessor had been a reckless boy, addicted to indulgence, frequently lingering in places of vice. As the youngest, Leon had never been doted on.
Eventually, after old Baron Victor had gone off to settle matters elsewhere, Leon Victor did not return to the comfort of his bed at home. Instead, he boarded a Night Watchman's carriage heading north to the Great Wall.
Despite the shortcomings left behind by his predecessor, some advantages remained. Leon had inherited his father's handsome appearance, earning occasional special treatment at entertainment venues like the Red Romance Club in Mole Village.
But after a long journey, the southern-born Leon contracted a cold from the harsh northern climate. At that critical moment, his soul crossed time and space to assume control of this new fate.
Now, Leon was the new Leon Victor.
Slumped on the floor, he felt the ladder of the watchtower tremble. His eyes instinctively moved toward the source of the vibration.
At the entrance, a head covered with messy hair poked out, followed by a slightly hunched figure clad in black.
The man's face was pale and numb from frost and snow. Seeing Leon sitting on the floor without the vigilance of a proper guard, he felt a trace of disappointment.
Still, he did not scold him. His voice was cold but matter-of-fact: "It's time to eat. If you miss this meal, you'll have to wait until the same time tomorrow."
Leon felt a bit uncomfortable. Since crossing over, he often joked at work, unaccustomed to the medieval mindset—but this old Night Watchman clearly considered him unworthy of sharing the same black cloak and oath.
The older man settled into the seat Leon had vacated, pushing aside his equipment with his feet and placing his bow and arrows on his back. He fixed his gaze firmly on the wilderness, and the narrow sentry tower suddenly felt a little crowded.
With no other choice, Leon gathered his equipment and slowly climbed out of the tower.
As he stepped onto the last rung of the wooden ladder, two familiar voices reached him from behind.
One was immediately recognizable as Jon's, the other slightly less familiar—but Leon had heard it before.
He turned and saw that the unfamiliar voice belonged to the young, amiable Eddie. Although neither Leon nor Eddie had perfect memories, they could match names to faces after meeting someone once.
There was no hostility in their tone, though their teasing was evident.
"Today's strange. Old Cohen didn't scold you."
"What's that supposed to mean, Eddie?" Jon asked, curious.
Leon stood quietly, a trace of doubt stirring. Their conversation seemed connected to him, yet he couldn't decipher how.
"Alas, what has become of the Night's Watch? They were once the representatives of responsibility and heroism in the Seven Kingdoms, but now… they're full of sinners, thieves, and sons-in-law!" Eddie's words revealed his deep dissatisfaction and concern about the Watch's current state.
"Now our duty is little more than chasing insignificant wildlings. As for the White Walkers… I'd rather believe they're just a story told to put children to bed," Jon replied.
"How can you say that, as a Stark? 'Winter is Coming' has been passed down through your family for generations. Don't you, a bastard of House Stark, believe in it?" Eddie's blunt remark made Jon's friendly expression darken. Pride appeared briefly when his Stark lineage was mentioned, but when he heard the words "illegitimate child," it vanished instantly.
Eddie didn't notice. Compared with Jon's noble bastard status, Eddie—a commoner who knew his parents' names—was indifferent to such petty attacks.
Jon left his chattering friend Eddie behind and approached Leon.
In front of Leon, born to a noble family, Jon's old warmth returned. As a new recruit who had joined the Night's Watch alongside Leon, he wasn't exceptional, but his humor often amused Jon.
Leon's friendly personality and endless jokes had always made Jon laugh, even if some stories seemed bizarre.
Recently, however, Leon had been unusually quiet. Perhaps the novelty of Black Iron Castle had worn off, leaving him feeling lost and uncertain about his long future as a Night Watchman.